and then--! I made a pretext of old Antoine's cough in order to gain
an opportunity of speaking to her alone; but she was like a thing
possessed, she broke from me and sprang over the icy cliff, her laugh
coming back on the wind as I followed her down the dangerous slope. On
she rushed, jumping from rock to rock, waving her hand in wild glee
when the moon shone out, singing and shouting with merry scorn at my
desperate efforts to reach her. It was a mad chase, but only on the
plain below could I come up with her. There, breathless and eager, I
unfolded to her my plan of education. I only went as far as this: I
was willing to send her to school, to give her opportunities of seeing
the world, to provide for her whole future. I left the story of my
love to come afterward. She laughed me to scorn. As well talk of
education to the bird of the wilderness! She rejected my offers,
picked up snow to throw in my face, covered me with her French
sarcasms, danced around me in circles, laughed, and mocked, until I
was at a loss to know whether she was human. Finally, as a shadow
darkened the moon she fled away; and when it passed she was gone, and
I was alone on the snowy plain.

'Angry, fierce, filled with scorn for myself, I determined resolutely
to crush out my senseless infatuation. I threw myself into such
society as we had; I assumed an interest in that inane Miss Augusta; I
read and studied far into the night; I walked until sheer fatigue gave
me tranquillity; but all I gained was lost in that encounter at the
arch: you remember it? When I saw her on that narrow bridge, my love
burst its bonds again, and, senseless as ever, rushed to save her,--to
save her poised on her native rocks, where every inch was familiar
from childhood! To save her,--sure-footed and light as a bird! I
caught her. She struggled in my arms, angrily, as an imprisoned animal
might struggle, but--so beautiful! The impulse came to me to spring